Of HalfDemons and Pigs
by psquare
Summary: [Ranma IY crossover] When Ryouga finally found his cure, he didn't expect it to be small, shiny and pink. Nor did he except an irate hanyou and a perverted monk to be accompanying it. COMPLETE.
1. Part I

**_A/N:_** Welcome to my proof of insanity – er, I mean, my Ranma ½ / Inu Yasha crossover fic. Just had to write something crazy to work away all the negative energy I built up through Dispersing Illusions and A Higher Realm… This story started out as a long one shot, but I've divided it into five to six parts. Yes, it's finished. I'll post the parts whenever I can get my hands on some Internet time. 

In Inu Yasha, this is set a little time _after_ Sango's introduction into the group – which means it's pretty early in the anime, _before_ Inu Yasha learns the Windscar. In Ranma ½, this is set just _before_ Ukyou's introduction into the anime. Also, this story happens in the Ranma universe, which means there's minimal chance of anybody other than Inu Yasha or Miroku from "Inu Yasha" making his or her appearance.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inu Yasha, Ranma ½, or any of their characters. Just this insane plot.

**_Of Half-Demons and Pigs_**

**_One _**

Ryouga Hibiki had come to a point in life, inevitable to all residents and frequent visitors of Nerima, where nothing, however bizarre or weird or unbelievable, surprised him anymore.

That would probably explain why he wasn't startled when the sky seemingly split itself open above him, depositing at his feet two strangely clad beings with a monster and on his arm (rather painfully) two shining pieces of glass.

He removed the annoying pieces of glass wedged into his arm, noting rather detachedly the way their pink, jaded surfaces seemed to swirl and glow, as though filled with some sort of luminous liquid. Hoping that they might make pretty pendants for his sweet Akane, he stuffed them into his pocket and turned his attention to the three others who had accompanied the glass.

One he could identify as a monk, with blue flowing robes and a golden staff with rings on one end. The other, with red garb, long silver hair and what looked like dog-ears on his head was a little harder to place. A glance at the third – what seemed to be an overgrown spider with huge pincers and dangerous-looking claws at the end of each leg – was enough for him to ascertain what exactly was going on.

But did they really _have_ to crash a costume party right when he was in a hurry to get back to Akane?

He watched as the spider recovered first from the fall, and took a swipe at the monk. He blocked it skilfully with his staff, while the silver-haired guy drew out a sword – which suddenly seemed too big to have fit into so small a sheath – and took a running stab at the monstrosity (really, they seemed to have _no_ taste at all when it came to costumes these days). The spider dodged with surprising agility, only to stagger in pain as a charm thrown by the monk landed on its forehead. "Go on, Inu Yasha," the monk cried, his accent decidedly old-world.

Wait. Inu Yasha? _Dog demon?_

The one with the silver-hair responded by running into another reckless attack at the spider, which it dodged again, seemingly recovered from the monk's spell. Two clawed feet rose and met to form a sharp, dangerous-looking point, and it descended quickly upon the red-clad man, aiming for the heart.

Ryouga decided that things, party or not, had gone too far.

Hefting his umbrella, he ran forward and blocked the spider's strike. In the same movement, he pushed the silver-haired one out of danger and rammed his left fist into the spider's extended appendage. He could hear the sound of chitin breaking and the pincers clicked wildly, as the overgrown insect staggered in pain. He brought his umbrella about, leaping, and landed a decisive blow on the spider's head while landing with a bone-crunching kick on its back. The spider twitched lamely for a couple of moments, before falling to the ground, limp.

Ryouga jumped off the body and landed in front of the other two youths with practiced grace. "I'm sorry about your… robot, or whatever it was," he said, with a slight bow. "But something had to be done, otherwise you'd have been killed. Ryouga Hibiki never stands aside when lives are on the line." He looked up to see two very startled faces staring at him. "I'm sorry again to have interrupted. I'll be going now."

With that, he turned and continued on his journey, reflecting on the two youths. The silver-haired one had had golden eyes… surely, they were contact lenses? If they were, they were certainly the most realistic Ryouga had seen. Those two must be recklessly rich, if they were able to afford costumes and equipment like that. All for what, though? Entertainment that nearly killed them? Ryouga shook his head.

Other kids these days. Absolutely no sense of discretion.

* * *

Inu Yasha forcefully bade all life forms to hell, and other places, which this chronicler doesn't find prudent to mention, while he strode toward the fallen body of the spider demon.

Miroku watched his friend, amusement twinkling in his blue eyes. "Well, well, Inu Yasha," he said, raising his hand to his chin in a mock contemplative pose. "Saved by a human who took all of five seconds to complete what you weren't able to accomplish in half-an-hour. I never thought I'd live to see this day."

"Shut up," Inu Yasha growled, sinking his claws into the demon's hide. "I'd say that guy is a hanyou." He tore out chunks of demonic flesh, as if looking for something. "Dammit, where's Kagome when you _need_ the wench?"

"A hanyou? But I sensed no demonic aura. Besides, the clothes that he wore…"

"Okay, so maybe it's his time of month," Inu Yasha retorted. He glared disgustedly at his blood-coated hands, before casting a glare of nearly the same calibre at Miroku. "Aren't you supposed to be a monk of some sort? Surely, you can sense the Jewel Shards, if only faintly?"

"I'm not really a monk in the strictest sense of the word," Miroku said, and continued hastily when it seemed like Inu Yasha was going to snap an angry retort, "But my powers _are_ substantial. I can sense the shards, but I cannot tell its location with the same accuracy as Kagome does."

"Just general would do. Get on with it already."

Miroku closed his eyes and concentrated. The small speck of incredibly concentrated power that he had come to associate with the Sacred Jewel shards teased at the edges of his consciousness. Lifting his hand, he tried to trace the location from which the faint glow seemed to be emanating. Though he couldn't determine the number, Kagome had said that the demon possessed three shards. _It should be… no, not there… it's more powerful to the left…_

"There, Inu Yasha!"

There was no answering shout of triumph, a gruff thanks, or even the wet sound of Inu Yasha tearing open the demon's carcass to get to the shard. Curious and rather concerned, Miroku opened his eyes, and immediately recognised the reason for the hanyou's silence.

His finger was pointing right at Inu Yasha.

The half-demon's hand tightened on the hilt of the Tetsusaiga, as his eye twitched in barely suppressed rage. "What do you take me for, some kind of gullible idiot?" His eyes flashed a dangerous gold. "You'll pay for playing games with me, _monk_."

Miroku gulped. "Um, you're sure you didn't pick up the shards by… er, mistake?"

The twitching intensified.

Miroku sidestepped to avoid a potential attack, when he saw the answer. Smiling, he brought his staff to his side and straightened his back, getting into his element. "Well, Inu Yasha," he began coolly, "the shards may not be on your person, but you must realise that my powers have performed to your expectations, however the situation looks at face value. You see – _ack_!"

His small speech was rudely interrupted by Inu Yasha bunching the front of his robes in his clawed hand, and lifting him at least two inches off the ground. "You beat around the bush – you _die_."

Miroku suppressed another gulp. "Theshardisinthelimbbehindyou."

"_What_?"

Miroku gestured for Inu Yasha to put him down, to which the hanyou hesitantly obliged. Feeling rather annoyed that his dramatic moment of revelation was now irreparably spoiled, Miroku muttered sullenly, "The shard is embedded in the spider limb behind you."

With a snort, Inu Yasha dug it out in a small fountain of blood. "You could've just told me that in the beginning," he said, stuffing it into his voluminous sleeve. He cast an impatient look around them. "Aren't there supposed to be two more shards?"

"I can't feel anything else on the demon," Miroku said, smoothing the front of his robe.

Inu Yasha clenched his fists. "Where in _hell_ are those two girls and that little demon brat? Kagome, of course, _would_ be late just when there's a fight, or shards to be found…" His voice trailed away and his ears pricked, as they picked up a distant and vaguely familiar rumbling sound.

A sound that was coming closer and closer to them.

Miroku seemed to be hearing it too, for seriousness settled like a mask upon his face as he looked to Inu Yasha. "Something is coming our way. And I cannot feel its aura." He frowned. "Could it be a void, like Kanna?"

"No time to think about that," Inu Yasha muttered, as he grabbed Miroku's hand and both of them dove behind the cover of nearby tall bushes. The sound grew louder and louder as a lumbering shape turned into the dusty dirt road, a black, flickering silhouette in the glare of the noonday sun. The silhouette resolved itself into a definite shape as it moved at an incredible speed. Finally, the two were able to see what the 'thing' was: a huge white, strangely designed box that travelled on unnatural-looking black wheels, propelled by some invisible force. It belched black, noxious smoke from its rear at regular intervals, and Miroku and Inu Yasha watched as it lumbered out of sight – the former fascinated; the latter horrified.

_That… that thing… I've seen others like it before._ Inu Yasha's scowl deepened until it seemed his lips would split open. _Shit – if my suspicions are right, then we really are in a load of trouble here._

"What is it, Inu Yasha?" Miroku asked, looking to his momentarily enlightened half-demon friend. "Do you _know_ what that thing we just saw is?"

"Yeah – I know enough to say that it doesn't belong here." He stood up and looked around him, for the first time since the fight, noticing the changes – however subtle – between what the battlefield was an hour ago, as opposed to _now_. "Or rather, that _we_ don't belong here."

Miroku's jaw nearly dropped to the ground as he grasped the implications of what Inu Yasha was saying. "Do you mean to say that… that… we…"

Inu Yasha nodded grimly. "Yes – we're in Kagome's time."

"But _how_? Despite the fact that I have in my possession a couple of Sacred Jewel shards, we didn't jump into the Bone-Eater's Well."

"How am _I_ supposed to know?" Inu Yasha retorted. "_You're_ the monk here."

Miroku cast a wry look at his friend, but chose not to comment. Instead, he closed his eyes once again, stretching his spiritual senses around him, until it impacted against a centre of incredible demonic power, much like the Bone Eater's Well. He opened his eyes and traced the feeling to a majestic banyan tree across the road. "That tree is it," he said quietly. "Of course there would exist more places like the Well – it cannot be the only one with such a vortex of power…"

"Let's get back to home, then," Inu Yasha said, bounding to the tree's side with one giant leap. Annoyance scrunched his features as he realised that Miroku wasn't following him. "What's _wrong_ with you? We've got what we need – the Sacred Jewel shards, and…" Inu Yasha trailed off, his eyes widening.

Miroku nodded. "The other two shards – they accompanied us to this world, I'm sure of it."

"Then that would mean…" Inu Yasha's eyes flashed. "That other hanyou… he must have the other two shards!" He punched the ground furiously, immediately regretting it as a cloud of dust entered his mouth and sensitive nose. "What… did he say… was his name again?" he asked, between coughs.

Unable to help a superior smile from curving his lips, Miroku replied, "I remember him referring to himself as…" He frowned in concentration. "Ryouga Hibiki. Yes, Hibiki. He _must_ have the other two shards." His expression shifted to one of concern as he watched his friend wave away the last of the dust. "He seemed to be pretty strong – are you sure you can fight him, Inu Yasha?"

"Of course I can," the hanyou replied, his hand positioning itself on the hilt of the Tetsusaiga. He clenched his other hand into a fist.

"He's going to regret that he ever set his eyes on us, much less steal our Jewel Shards."

* * *

_What kind of wasteland have I been travelling in all this while? _Ryouga Hibiki cast another weary look at the rows and rows of buildings lining the road, each no different from the other. He sunk to his knees on the pavement and leaned forward, only his umbrella preventing him from falling onto his face. _Oh, Akane, it is only the fire of my love for you that fuels me on now… _

In a way, that was true. He had placed his food – and his meagre money happened to be with it, as well – too far away from his sleeping bag at his latest makeshift campsite, and as he walked around the clearing looking for it, had promptly gotten himself lost again. It had been fifteen hours since he had eaten anything, and he had been travelling all the while.

_But I will not give up_, he thought determinedly. _Even if I have to walk around the earth five times, I **will** get to you, Akane! I will profess my love, set my lips against your soft, lovely ones, and…_

"… I'll kiss you, Akane, my love!"

Ryouga looked up, startled. He had not spoken loud – he recognised the voice, but it… it just _couldn't_ be!

"Just get lost, Kunou!" There was a whack, and a yell that slowly petered out as Kunou flew above Ryouga, and toward the horizon. Ryouga scrambled to his feet and turned around to see Akane standing behind, still fuming at Kunou. _So… I **am** in Nerima, after all!_

"A-Akane?"

She seemed to notice him standing there for the first time, for an expression of pleasant surprise replaced the anger on her face. "Oh, hi, Ryouga!" Her smile widened. "It's good to see you're back."

_Really?_ A blush crept across the bridge of his nose. "Thanks. It's… it's good to see you too, Akane." _Now is the time… the time to tell her how I feel._ His hands twitched nervously. "Um, Akane… I… I have something to say to you."

"Go ahead, Ryouga."

He cast a wary look behind her shoulder. "Is Ranma with you?"

"No, he's training with his father back at the dojo. I just came to do some grocery shopping for Kasumi." She lifted a loaded shopping bag. "So – what is it you want to say?"

_No Ranma? This is perfect_. "You see, Akane, I –"

"I'd better refill this vase… oops!" Ryouga looked up to see a vase tumbling from the apartment window right above his head. That was not what caused his eyes to widen in horror, and his heartbeat to accelerate, however – worse things had bounced off his visage harmlessly before – it was the fact that the vase was half-filled with water, and that wily mercenary, Gravity, was directing the liquid onto Ryouga's head – and that there was nothing he could do about it.

The most horrifying of all – Akane was standing right in front of him.

_I hope my death is a quick one_. He felt the cool splash of the water on his head, and waited for the transformation, the shouts of "P-Chan!", and "How _could_ you, Ryouga?", the kick that would send him flying to orbit around Mars, the accusing stares, the tears of betrayal…

… all of which never came.

Ryouga opened his eyes, unaware of when he had closed them, blinking in surprise. He lifted his hands to his eyes and twitched his fingers. Human. He ran them over his face, and felt the beginnings of a rough stubble on his cheek. Human male. The hands explored upward, until they impacted against his bandanna. Human male with a bandanna.

Yes, he was himself – he was Ryouga Hibiki.

Ryouga. Hibiki. Human. Not a piglet.

How was that _possible_?

"That was really inconsiderate of her…" Akane frowned at his silence. "Is something wrong, Ryouga?"

"Erm, nothing… nothing at all, Akane." A disbelieving smile spread and lit up his face. "Absolutely nothing."

"O-okay, then." Akane lifted a hand in goodbye and turned around. "I really have to get these back in time for dinner, so I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure, Akane – Bye."

"Bye – See you later!" Ryouga watched her leave, the delirious smile still etched on his face. He… he was cured! Inexplicably, wonderfully, suddenly cured! Something had had to have happened earlier in the day for this change to come about, for he could recall transforming from the effects of his Jusenkyo curse as recently as the previous night. Nothing remarkable had happened, really, except for him meeting those two strange youths…

_Those glass shards…_

They must be it – the cure! He dug into his pocket and fished out the two glowing shards, tears of utter joy pricking the edges of his eyes. It seemed that the Gods had finally taken pity on him, and bestowed on him the cure to the blasphemous Jusenkyo curse – dropping it from their heavenly bosom onto his mortal self. He fell to his knees again – this time, more out of reverence than exhaustion (though that _did_ play a factor).

He clenched the fist that held the shards. Thanks to these pink pieces of godly glass, a whole vista of opportunities that had thus far been denied to him, had opened – a glorious future lay unfurled before him, and he intended to accomplish it, with Ranma Saotome under his foot and Akane Tendou by his side.

Nobody was going to take these shards – his _future_ – away from him, not when he was alive.

* * *


	2. Part II

**_A/N:_** Thanks for the reviews, guys. But you know, the _real_ fun starts only from _this_ part.

And yeah, just to clarify: Ryouga is, was, and will never be anything even _remotely_ demonic in this story. Yeah. Seriously. Whatever Inu Yasha says.

_**Two**_

"Ohohoho! What a haul!"

Happosai, Grandmaster of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts, and Pervert Extraordinaire, skipped across the buildings of Nerima, the usual gaggle of makeshift-weapon-wielding enraged girls chasing after him, as his latest roundup of their underwear bounced on his shoulders. With a reality-defying leap, he crossed the road within the blink of an eye, and soon lost the furious girls. Another somersault and a couple of evil laughs, and he was vaulting into the Tendou house compound, where the master of the dojo was playing chess with a giant panda.

Yes, it was yet another normal, nondescript day in Nerima.

"Hey, old man. Finished terrorising the girls already?"

Happosai bristled at the young, mocking voice and turned to face Ranma Saotome, who was watching him with a disgusted smirk on his face. "I wouldn't call it 'terrorising', if I were you, boy," he said. "It's an old man's hobby – one of the few things I can derive pleasure from before I leave this world." He gave a dramatic sigh.

Ranma snorted. "Yeah right. Viruses like you always live unfortunately long lives."

"Really, my boy, you need to show some respect!" He glanced at his two disciples, who were pretending to be absorbed in their game. "Isn't that right, boys?"

Soun and the panda were on their knees in the blink of an eye. "Of course, Master, of course! Ranma really does not appreciate your greatness, your unparalleled understanding of the world…"

"Is greatness defined by harassing young women?"

The little group started at the sound of the new voice, and looked to the entrance of the dojo to see someone who looked vaguely like a monk, clad in blue robes that looked slightly worse for wear, and leaning on a golden staff. He looked rather travel-weary, with his black hair mussed, and eyes half-closed in tiredness. But what they could see of his eyes were glaring furiously at Happosai, sparkling like deep-blue flames.

Happosai frowned. "And who may _you_ be?"

The monk straightened himself. "I am Miroku, a loyal servant of Buddha. I cannot tolerate the mistreatment of young ladies by miscreants such as yourself."

_A monk, eh?_ To Ranma and the others' surprise, a smirk slowly spread across Happosai's face. "Oh, it is quite a ritual here, I assure you. Even if it _is_ five hundred years after your time, I'm quite sure you'd enjoy partaking in my little hobby."

Miroku's eyes widened, while Ranma sputtered in shock, "F-five _hundred_ years? He doesn't look older than twenty!"

Happosai waved his pipe dismissively at his young student. "Do not interfere in things you do not have the capability of understanding, Ranma." He turned his attention back to the monk, who was now looking at him with wary apprehension. "Perhaps we could go somewhere quieter to have a little talk…?"

"Of course, of course," Miroku agreed readily. "Talk we must."

Happosai lead the way into the empty dojo, carefully closing the door behind Miroku. "So – why is it that you have come to this time?"

"It was an accident," Miroku replied, after a long and wary silence, prodded on by Happosai's patiently inquiring gaze. "And it is not only me, but also my… _friend_, who is caught in this time. Unfortunately, we got separated in this fascinatingly confusing world of yours." He settled on the floor of the dojo, crossing his legs beneath him. "We have the intention – and the devices – to get back to our own world, but an unforeseen complication has forced us to stay. Something that we… _need_, was apparently stolen by one of your time, and we're searching for him, with no fruitful result thus far."

"I see." Happosai lit his pipe and took a long drag. Miroku tried to maintain his stoic composure as underwear-shaped smoke floated around his head. "And who is this person who stole your property?"

"I believe his name is Hibiki. Ryouga Hibiki."

Happosai's eyes lit up at that name. "Young Ryouga Hibiki, you say? Well, well, now – there's a tough opponent." He lifted his pipe thoughtfully. "I suppose I _could_ help you find him…"

Miroku bowed slightly. "I will be eternally grateful."

"… but you are not sufficiently ready to fight him, yet. You cannot use your Black Hole, for he has your… _property_ in possession, and I would not like to see a promising young man like Ryouga go before his time."

Miroku's composure bid farewell to the hapless monk at that statement. "You – you _know_ about my Black Hole?"

"Of course." A particularly fluffy bra settled on Miroku's nose, before dispersing. "I haven't lived three hundred years without hearing about the legend of Inu Yasha and his disciples!"

Miroku's eyebrows rose impressively. "Disciples?"

"Well, followers, then."

"_Followers_?" His voice was now definitely tinged with more than a little anger, and Happosai noted, with some trepidation, the monk's cursed right hand twitching. He couldn't die now – not before he had seen Ranma's girl side try out his prized collection!

"Well now, that's not really the issue here, is it?" The smirk curved Happosai's lips once again. "I will help you catch young Hibiki quickly – provided you're willing to listen to my instructions."

Miroku sighed resignedly. "I don't suppose I have a choice, do I?"

The smile widened. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure you'll enjoy your training."

* * *

Inu Yasha was not having a good day.

If one is to believe the adage that a day is only as good as one makes it, it is safe to presume that the possibility that Inu Yasha will _never_ have a good day is inherent. But as a chronicler of events, whose job is to state the facts, however dire or obvious they may be, this writer will superimpose on the reader's mind once again, this: Inu Yasha _really_ was _not_ having a good day.

He had followed the Hibiki hanyou's scent (which had remained curiously human, even after daybreak) into the city and out, over small hillocks and sandy tracts, across fields and ever-busy roads, through thickets of trees and narrow alleyways. It was amazing how much Hibiki had managed to travel in so short a time, though Inu Yasha really couldn't figure out any pattern in his tracks. The local population paid him no mind, which surprised Inu Yasha a little, for Kagome had always insisted on him staying inconspicuous while he visited her time. Did she make him wear that dreadful… _headgear_ just for her laughs?

Probably the worst thing about it all was that he had lost Miroku on the way.

Oh, not to death – though he suspected that would happen soon if the stupid monk kept stepping in front of moving vehicles, fascinated – but to something he felt was worse. They had been confronted – _More like trampled,_ Inu Yasha thought darkly – by a gaggle of furious human girls as they pursued an unseen – and probably unfortunate – enemy. Inu Yasha had found himself realising where Kagome got her more… _violent_ streak from, when Miroku had been swamped away by the fiery crowd, and out of sight. Inu Yasha had decided against following the monk then, for he was sure Miroku could take care of himself (somewhat, at least, when it came to ladies), and Hibiki's scent may not be so easy to follow later on.

It hadn't been a very difficult decision to make (_stupid monk, getting himself into trouble all the bloody time_), in reality, but it was still one heck of an inconvenience.

Inu Yasha's spirits brightened a little as he felt Hibiki's scent grow fresher. He estimated him to have walked along this dirt path not more than an hour ago, which was a definite improvement – he was catching up.

Yes, the scent was getting more and more distinct… did the guy step into a swamp or something on the way? … just around that corner… estimation now not more than forty minutes away… into another dirt path… twenty minutes… and…

He burst into the road he sensed Hibiki was standing on. "I've got you!"

… And immediately sweatdropped like he had never in his life before (which is a substantial amount of time, considering the fact that he was a half-demon).

Hibiki was standing in front of him – no problem about that. Where he was standing, however… was an entirely different matter.

It was the very place where Inu Yasha had first seen him.

Ryouga turned around, and, inexplicably, smiled at Inu Yasha. The hanyou noticed detachedly the other's rather overgrown canines, which seemed too small to be demon fangs, but too big to be human. "Hello – I believe I've seen you before… here, right? Where's your friend?"

"I've – I've been searching for you," Inu Yasha sputtered, unable to suppress his disbelief. "All over the bloody place, and you're – you're…"

"Here again?" Hibiki smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. "I've been walking in circles again, I suppose. I have… a bit of an _impairment_ when it comes to direction and finding my way around."

"I'd say," Inu Yasha muttered, before shaking his head violently, reminding himself of _why_ exactly he had searched for Ryouga all this time. Molten anger re-entered his veins, fuelled considerably by the frustration at the wild-goose chase he had had to scramble along in for the better part of the day. He pulled the Tetsusaiga out of its sheath in a single fluid movement, the glow of its transformation reflecting in his amber eyes, waiting for the fear to blossom on his opponent's face.

He didn't expect curiosity, however.

Ryouga rapped his fingers against the blade, blatantly inquisitive as he looked at the sword from all angles possible. "Just how do you do that?" he asked in a tone that Inu Yasha might have recognised as awe, if he had been in a better mood. "I don't see any creases where it can fold itself – this really _is_ a sword."

"Of _course_ it is," Inu Yasha said irritably, twitching the sword slightly, so that Ryouga would stop fingering it. "Now – I really don't want to kill you. Give me back the shards that you stole, and I'll seriously consider sparing your life."

The smile slipped off Ryouga's face as abruptly as if someone had flicked a switch off within him. "Shards?"

"Yeah, _shards_." Inu Yasha's grip tightened. "Give the Jewel shards back, and your head will stay on your shoulders."

He spotted Ryouga's hand touching his chest pocket for the briefest of moments, before the perennially lost boy let out a long and mocking laugh. "_You're_ threatening _my_ life? Don't be ridiculous." He dropped his backpack to the ground (promptly creating a small crater) and hefted his umbrella. "I'll never give these shards… to _anyone_. Especially not to a costume-clad rich upstart such as yourself."

Inu Yasha bristled. That was it.

"You've just sealed your death wish!" With that, he commenced his usual reckless charge, swinging his sword in a manner that his stepbrother had once famously described as resembling 'a baboon waving a wooden stick.' Ryouga easily sidestepped the charge – when one fights with Ranma often enough and survives, one unconsciously becomes at least twice as fast as before – and allowed Inu Yasha to slice at the tree behind him.

To his surprise, the gargantuan sword cleaved through the tough bark with barely a whisper. With a big rustle, the top of the tree fell across the road. Inu Yasha swirled around, fangs bared, breeze playing with long silver hair, suddenly looking a lot more intimidating than before. "I hope you can take me _seriously_ now."

Ryouga's eyes narrowed at the unforeseen complication. So this kid had toys that really did work. But whatever.

Zero, how many ever times multiplied, was still only zero.

"You want to fight that bad?" His own fangs made their appearance, as he shifted into a fighting stance. It had been a long time since he had engaged himself in a duel, and he could use the practice, however meagre the competition this rich weirdo was going to provide. "That's fine with me."

"But I assure you, you'll regret it."

* * *

At pretty much the same time, a lone duck flew above the impromptu battlefield, reflecting on things that most certainly had nothing to do with ducks, but more to do with beautiful Chinese Amazon ladies and unrequited love. Not to mention ghastly old Amazon matriarchs, broken glasses, cocky martial artists who stole other men's fiancées, and incorrigibly inconsiderate tourists, who _always_ left a little bit of water in their plastic bottles when they threw it away, and how those half-filled bottles _always_ seemed to fall on him.

Mousse, shortsighted Master of Hidden Weaponry and infamous Amazon Duck-Man, was in a bad mood.

So it was a restless mind with which he caught sight of the impending battle below him.

Scrunching his beak as much as he could in order to adjust his glasses better, he slowed down to circle the area slowly, almost lazily. One of the two men on the ground he could recognise as Ryouga Hibiki, while the other, with long silver hair and dark red garb, was somewhat of a mystery.

But still, _something_ was familiar about the man…

He watched in fascination as the silver-haired one pulled out a ridiculously enormous sword, and with seemingly no effort at all, cut a tree into two neat pieces – missing Ryouga by mere inches. Even if the man lacked finesse, Mousse was impressed by the sheer _power_ that he possessed. It required years and years of training to be just able to wield such power, and as far as Mousse knew, only the Chinese Amazons – and those trained by them, like Hibiki and Saotome (courtesy the old ghoul Cologne) – could come up with such a clean, yet powerful, technique like that.

He started. _What if…?_

He tried to land on a tree – forgetting that he was a duck, which didn't exactly have _claws _– promptly lost his balance and fell to the ground. The glasses went flying, immediately turning the world into a mass of blurred, indistinct and merging colours. Out of it all, as he got on to his webbed feet, Mousse still kept his eyes on the spot he knew Ryouga's opponent to be. He could still make out the brilliant silver hair, and the bright red robes. Trepidation made an unwelcome visit to his spine.

It was well-known that the Chinese Amazons were a largely – the writer says _largely_, not _completely_, out of democratic obligations – matriarchal society, and men were… not treated as _men_, per se, but more as necessary burdens. And like all diverse, autocratic societies, there were a section of the men, filled to the brim with inborn testosterone, who resented being treated second-best to women. They split themselves from the parent village to form a rebel faction, and in a fit of 'creative' energy, christened themselves as "Amazon Men for Honour" (a rough translation of the original Chinese name).

They engaged themselves in petty shows of defiance – not willing to go against the infinitely better-trained Amazon women in a fight, for men were not allowed to learn the centuries-old 'Secret Amazon Techniques'. (Mousse was the sole exception, after he found out he had quite a talent for sneaking, spying and thieving – provided he had his glasses on.) They wore their hair white and long – such hairstyle being only the privilege of female veterans on the village council, such as Cologne – and outrageously bright clothes, as a deterrent from the drab garb that the men were forced to wear.

But all of that was irrelevant to the cause of Mousse's apprehension. What tendency of theirs he _was_ worried about was that they had an annoying habit of trying to claim – read: kidnap, through atrociously dishonourable means – women (preferably Amazon) betrothed to other men, for they _did_ need the opposite sex, if only for survival. If a man from the rebel faction was able to defeat another Amazon man to whom a woman was already betrothed to, by Amazon law, he deserved the woman.

And now there was this guy, who looked suspiciously like a rebel, in Japan, where his precious Shampoo also presently resided.

Mousse didn't like the situation one bit.

The confusion increased as he remembered that Ryouga was the one presently fighting this rebel. Had Hibiki given up on Akane? Was he now lusting after Shampoo? _His_ Shampoo? Funnily, he felt devastation before anger. Not more than an hour ago, he had had only the vile but extremely talented Ranma Saotome to compete with for Shampoo's affections. In an impossible instant, he had two _more_ rivals, and _both_ of them were powerful in their own ways. Life, always a little stringent when it came to Mousse, was really _not_ being kind to him.

The devastation was quickly replaced by all-consuming flames of white-hot rage. _How **dare** these pathetic losers even **try** to claim Shampoo, who is beyond doubt only **my** fiancée? _

He ruffled his feathers and took to the sky once again. He was going to find the Nekohanten, and a kettle of boiling hot water, and track down, defeat and preferably kill the rebel and the fickle-hearted Hibiki.

That Amazon male upstart was going to regret that he even bothered making the trip to Japan, the second before Mousse cleaved his head off his shoulders.

* * *


	3. Part III

_**Three **_

Miroku, in spite of all of his questionable _habits_, was a polite man.

In spite of the fact that he was currently sneaking into the home of a woman to perform a clandestine, decidedly immoral operation, he was a considerate man.

Which is why he decided not to mention anything about his 'training' to Kagome and the others – obviously the poor disillusioned girl had no idea about the extreme vagaries of her time, a prime example of whom was Happosai. Especially the fact that he was looking forward to sharing the said specimen's pride and joy, and that he was itching to compare what he had seen of Happosai's 'Prized Collection' to Kagome's own.

Decidedly he had to spare her of the heartache!

"You seem pretty competent at this," Happosai observed, as Miroku scaled the perimeter of the house carefully, his footsteps barely making any noise in the quiet street.

For once, Miroku took the comment as an affront to his purity of heart (or lack, thereof). "Stealth is essential when you live in an era such as mine, where demons that can tear you apart in a matter of seconds lurk behind every corner." A smile crossed his face briefly. "Though, of course, stealth can be applied in dozens of _other_ ways, as well."

Happosai seemed as though he would burst in glee. "Now _that's_ what I'm talking about!" He tied a scarf around his head, and readied his sack, handing a similar one to Miroku in the process. "Now, we go in, and ste – um, _borrow_ the beautiful little things!"

Miroku cast a dubious glance at his temporary 'Master'. "How is this going to help me against Hibiki?"

"Speed and agility are of the essence while fighting an opponent like Hibiki," Happosai informed him, with a self-righteous drag of a pipe that seemed to have come out of nowhere. "I find that this practice provides the very same in a much better way than just training in some training hall." He grinned. "Remember, the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts has no fixed place to train. The world is our training ground."

Miroku smiled uneasily. "Right."

"All right, then, enough of idle talk. In we go!"

The matter, surprisingly, was over in barely a few minutes. Of course, they were a nerve-wracking few minutes – a few minutes in which Miroku wondered if the underwear was really worth the risk of being found – after which the two proceeded toward the exit in as stealthy a manner as possible, loaded sacks bouncing on their shoulders.

"EEKKKK! It's the weird old pervert again!"

"And there's someone with him, this time!"

"And my underwear's GONE!"

"After them, girls!"

_Uh oh._ Miroku looked to Happosai, who had a grim look on his face. "It is unfortunate that we were found so soon – we must make a run for it."

And run they did, as the familiar crowd of Violent Weapon-Wielding Girls™ pursued them. Miroku followed Happosai, as the little old man zipped across busy roads and through inconspicuous alleys; over low walls and under gates, until the shouts of the crows petered out to be replaced with blissful silence. Miroku stopped, panting heavily, but Happosai seemed to have other ideas. "We cannot be lulled into a false sense of security!" he cried, before zipping around another corner, and out of sight.

Borrowing a few choice words from Inu Yasha's rather coarse vocabulary, Miroku proceeded to run around the same corner, when…

… he smashed headlong into what seemed to be a warm mass of white and black, while his sack of stolen underwear burst open.

No, it wasn't a panda.

It was an irate Chinese Amazon male, who had just lost his glasses, and was in danger of losing the love of his life as well. It was also a Chinese Amazon who had just mistakenly identified him as the man who had caused the aforementioned danger.

But Miroku didn't know that.

"I'm very sorry," he said, as he got to his feet and extended a hand toward the other fallen man. Mousse batted away his hand, however, and glared at the monk with haunting, but strangely unfocussed green eyes.

Mousse, as has been stressed many times before, was in a mood generally non-conducive to good humour. He didn't appreciate being stopped so rudely when he was on his way to save his precious Shampoo, and even more so when the person who stopped him happened to be the very same person who was claiming for Shampoo's hand in marriage.

He was going to _pay_!

Leaping to his feet, he kept his eyes fixed on the man in front of him, afraid that he would fade into the blurred surroundings if Mousse took his eyes off him for even a second. He reached into his robes. Yes, it was the darn rebel, all right – he had changed his robes, the wily scoundrel, but the white hair was unmistakable (the 'white hair' being a stray piece of underwear draped on an unsuspecting Miroku's head).

"Die, vile creature!" With that, he let loose half-a-dozen chained scythes in Miroku's direction. The surprised monk jumped out of their way just in time, but not fast enough to prevent one of the blades from grazing his arm. Pain lanced up his limb, and the blood from the cut stained his dark robes an even darker colour. Miroku's normally placid eyes flashed in a way normally reserved for Inu Yasha's frequent use. It had already been a long, exhausting day, and was he to be rewarded for bearing it patiently with a psychotic young man trying to kill him for apparently no reason at all?

His long mental tirade increased his anger to levels beyond those he would usually experience in such situations – as it is with most angry people – and he gripped his staff tightly, holding it in a fighting stance before him. "I don't know why you want to fight me, but I will not yield to your weak attempts at battle!"

Mousse's ears pricked. _Stupid fellow – his voice just revealed to me his location_. Another barrage of scythes went flying toward the monk, who stepped back and held his staff before him, allowing the chained blades to wrap themselves heavily around the shaft. Then, using their momentum, he lifted the staff and flipped it over, causing Mousse to fly above him, and land face-first in the cemented pavement behind the monk, in a decidedly painful manner.

Freeing the staff of the Amazon's weapons in a single, fluid movement, Miroku turned to face his fallen opponent. _That was almost too easy…_

_Where did he get a staff from?_ Mousse wondered, bewildered. His plan had been to induce the fellow to charge forward with that sword, and then use his superior agility and strategic skills to defeat him. He certainly hadn't expected the guy to be one step ahead of him, or to respond with such an intelligent move…

Unless… Could he be mistaken?

Mousse got to his feet and dug into the depths of his voluminous robes for the elusive glasses. Miroku watched, baffled, as the young man threw out various objects from within his clothes in his quest – objects that ranged from swords to teddy bears; from swan-shaped potties to sinks; from the morning's groceries to keys of every imaginable shape and size; from Chinese souvenirs to broken radios.

Miroku, of course, couldn't recognise any of this, and wondered at what kind of terrible spell this crazy young man was planning to cast on him. _In any case, I'd better be prepared,_ he thought warily, reaching into his robe, ready to pull out a spiritual ward if needed.

"Finally!" From his robe came a pair of worn, thick glasses, and Mousse put them on carefully. He turned toward Miroku, and…

He blinked.

Then he blinked some more.

Miroku calmly blinked back.

"Y-you're not an Amazon rebel?"

"Amazon?"

"You don't want Shampoo?"

"The strange hair concoction that Kagome uses? Why would I want that?"

"Are you _sure_ you're not an Amazon fighter?"

Miroku felt the annoyance coming back. "Yes, I'm sure. I'm a monk, not an… _Amazon_ fighter, or whatever you called me."

Mousse immediately fell to his knees. "I'm so – so sorry, lord monk!" He looked up with pleading eyes at Miroku – which wasn't much use, hidden as they were behind thick, almost opaque lenses. "Please forgive me – my notoriously bad sight led me to mistake your eminent self for somebody else."

Not used to such unrestricted respect – after not having received it for many weeks, courtesy Inu Yasha – Miroku felt almost immediately mollified. It had been an honest mistake. The cut on his arm would heal pretty soon, and he had received much more serious injuries in the past. "It's quite all right," Miroku said graciously. "The best of us make mistakes, sometimes."

"You really are forgiving," Mousse said, his eyes wide and starry behind his lenses. "But there _must_ be some way I can compensate for my inadvertent mistake?"

Miroku wasn't one for letting golden opportunities go by wasted. "You can, good friend, help me by informing me of the current location of a certain young man named Ryouga Hibiki. I trust you know the fellow?"

"Hibiki?" Mousse scrambled to his feet eagerly. "Of course, of course! In fact, I saw him just a few minutes ago fighting with another."

Miroku frowned. "Tell me, friend, who is this 'other'?"

"I believe he is the Amazon rebel whom I mistook you for."

"And his appearance?"

"Long white hair, bright red robes, and a most impressively gargantuan sword, lord monk."

_Oh, so Inu Yasha **did** get to him before me… well, then. I should be getting along._ "I hope you can take me there, my good man?"

"Of course," Mousse replied. "I was just going there myself."

* * *

Shampoo was feeling very good with herself and the world, in general.

Taking her hands off the handlebars of the bike she was riding, she reached into the waistband of her pants and pulled out a spectacularly studded ring, admiring it for what might be the tenth time that day. _Now that all delivery complete,_ she thought, closing her eyes in almost delirious happiness (the cycle miraculously kept its course), _I can take this to Ranma. Then he forever fall love with me only!_

If Happosai, Ranma or Akane had been there to take a good look at the ring, they would've found it frighteningly familiar. They would've been reminded of golden beaches, perverted old men, and pills with miraculous properties when it came to attraction to the opposite sex. In short, they would've been reminded of the Terrible Love Pill Incident, as Ranma had shudderingly dubbed it. They would've also been reminded of the fact that all three pill-ring-stones were lost or destroyed.

That's where Shampoo would've interjected, "But, ah! Shampoo get pill remade!" She probably wouldn't have mentioned the secrecy, the cajoling and money – yes, lots and lots of money – that went into the remaking, but what was important was that the Instantaneous, Day and Lifetime Love Pills were back to add to the confused jumble of events that was Nerima.

As she rode on, admiring the ring, her senses, well-toned by years of practicing martial arts, picked up the lightning-fast approach of what seemed to be a maroon and green midget.

In other words, Happosai was coming her way.

She grabbed hold of the handlebars to swerve herself out of the way – she had much more important things to do than mess around with the annoying old pervert that day – but made a serious and uncharacteristic misjudgement of timing as she did so. She had only time to think, _Old man get faster suddenly?_ before the old man crashed into her, and having got a lightning-swift whiff of her chest, was off in a flash. Shampoo overbalanced and fell from the cycle, while the ring rose into the air.

"Ah, precious ring! I must – _ack_!"

The _ack_ was caused by her inadvertent swallowing of one of the pills that happened to dislodge from the previously tightly and well-crafted ring, following the warped logic that dominated Nerima.

_Aiyah! I swallow pill!_ After that moment of brilliant revelation, Shampoo got to her feet, and directed a few choice Chinese curses at Happosai, who was, thankfully, out of sight by that time. She inspected the ring, and saw that, much to her relief, the Lifetime pill was still safe and intact. So was the Instantaneous Pill. So she must have swallowed the Day Pill. Well, that wasn't too bad. All she had to do was to avoid looking at any male (other than her darling Ranma) for a day.

A whole day.

Twenty-four hours.

One thousand four hundred and forty minutes.

Suddenly it felt to Shampoo that the world around her was swarming with men who were not Ranma Saotome.

_Must be brave – and careful_, Shampoo thought determinedly, as she shut her eyes tightly and got on to the bike once again. _I go to Furinkan High now – I see Ranma, and problem is solved._

With that encouraging thought in mind, she rode on in the direction of Furinkan High, trusting her instincts to get her there. She hadn't gone a great distance, however, before an ominous rumbling, and creaking, accompanied by what was certainly a martial artist's battle yell, stopped her in her tracks. Opening her eyes out of necessity, she got off her bike and flipped backward, away from the source of the yell. She found out soon that it was very fortunate that she had done so, for a gigantic tree top fell across the road, crushing her poor bike – on which she had been seated barely a second ago – under its weight.

_What… who do something like that?_ The dust cloud from the crash dispersed quickly, revealing…

… the most handsome man she had ever seen in her entire life.

Her eyes quickly traced his muscular form – well, he was wearing a largely concealing and loose red robe, but she knew that he just _had _to be muscular – his face (surely, such a face must belong to a celestial being – it was too mesmerisingly handsome to belong to a mortal), hauntingly beautiful golden eyes, lovely, long (ecstatically beautiful!) white hair, and what were probably the cutest pair of dog-ears she had ever seen. She was nearly overcome by a desire to reach out and touch them.

The man – certainly an angel descended from the heavens – didn't seem to notice her, as he swirled to face another… man, who was indistinct in the light of the glow the white-haired angel exuded. A distant corner of her mind informed her that that man was Ryouga Hibiki, and wondered – _very_ briefly – what he was doing there.

After that, all her attention was riveted on the angel alone, her vision rose-tinted with the uncontrollable desire she felt rising like magma within her. Again the distant corner threw up a name that vaguely sounded like "Ranma Saotome", and in a _much_ quieter voice, "Mousse", but whoever they were, they were insignificant. This angel was the man of her dreams. The love of her life. Her sun. Her moon. Her stars. Her everything.

And, she thought determinedly, her future husband.

* * *

All was still, for the briefest of moments.

Then –

Inu Yasha exploded into a barrage of wild sword swings and even brasher language as he rushed toward his opponent.

Ryouga, happy that for once he was not the denser fighter, easily avoided the swings, searching for a hole in Inu Yasha's defences. It was not difficult to find one – the hanyou's left side was as open as the Pacific Ocean – which led to Ryouga quickly ducking under another wild sweep and swinging his super-heavy umbrella at Inu Yasha's vulnerable side.

Inu Yasha had observed before how manoeuvrable that red umbrella of Ryouga's was, but he was just receiving a 'crash' course on how _heavy_ the damn thing was, as well. _How in **hell** does this guy carry this around?_ he thought, clutching his aching side as he rolled out of Ryouga's range (_temporarily_, as he would have all readers know). The umbrella was at least as heavy and powerful as the Tetsusaiga, if not more. Though Inu Yasha had had to give up his theory of Ryouga being a hanyou (no hanyou retained a human smell for more than twelve hours) he had to concede that Ryouga was still one _really _strong human. Maybe humans had more going for them than Inu Yasha had originally thought. Maybe that's why, by Kagome's time, humans rule the Earth and there are no demons to be found.

Maybe.

Ryouga interrupted this rare moment of revelation as he lunged at Inu Yasha once again, umbrella in hand and in attacking position. Inu Yasha quickly parried the blow with the Tetsusaiga. Sweat beaded on Ryouga's forehead as he tried to force the umbrella past what he was certain was a costume sword. Keeping the pressure intact, Inu Yasha slowly rose to his feet, and tried to push back Ryouga. The fanged martial artist was more than a match for him however, and relentlessly kept his ground. Neither of the thickheaded, pride-obsessed fighters wanted to be the first to pull out of the deadlock, and it seemed that they would be stuck at this impasse for quite some time.

That is, only if one doesn't factor a drugged Shampoo into the scheme of things.

One moment, Inu Yasha was pitting his incredible strength against the equally incredible strength of Ryouga, and the next, a pink and purple blur had suddenly latched onto his torso, crying, "Nihao!"

The surprise forced him to fall backward, and Ryouga sensed a perfect opportunity to finish the duel – if not kill the kid, at least hurt him enough so that he wouldn't be tempted to waste his money in such useless pursuits again. He had no idea why Shampoo was suddenly clutching at the guy, screaming phrase after loving Chinese phrase and declaring that he was her husband (_shouldn't she be doing that to Ranma?_) but that didn't matter, really. Let Shampoo do whatever she wanted. All he wanted was Ranma's defeat at his hands, his precious shards – his heavenly cure – and Akane. God help whoever came in the way of his pursuit of those three objectives.

He raised his umbrella to finish off a distracted Inu Yasha ("_What the hell are you **doing**, you stupid wench?_") but as he brought the weapon down, a disturbingly familiar golden staff came in the way, effectively stopping the umbrella's deadly trajectory. Ryouga looked up, surprised, to gaze into a pair of placid, grim blue eyes. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that to my friend," the intruder said, his voice low and decidedly dangerous. _Oh great,_ Ryouga thought. _Now his friend wants to die, too?_

To his increasing dismay, he heard further shouts resounding within the clearing. "You rebel fiend! Don't you _dare_ touch my Shampoo!" Mousse came into sight, even the anger that was etched into every line of his visage made to look ridiculous by the huge glasses that covered nearly half his face. The Amazon reached into his robes, ready to pull out his usual barrage of weapons. Ryouga felt a deep foreboding make its chilled way up his spine.

The stage was set.

* * *


	4. Part IV

**_A/N:_** Thanks for the reviews.

Oops, tiny mistake. Regarding my statement in the author's note of Chap 2, I meant that Ryouga had no demonic blood, or was in no way naturally hanyou. You'll understand later in this chapter. And congrats to whoever guessed (or hoped) that Ranma would be in this story. He'll be playing a small part, but he holds the key to it all.

And about the last section of Chap 2… the whole "Amazon Men for Honour" thing was completely made up. Though it was loosely inspired by the "Learning Curve" duology by Capn' Chryssalid. Go read them (after this part, of course). They're awesome.

* * *

_**Four**_

Ranma Saotome realised that he had to be very, _very_ careful.

If that sounds reminiscent of a particularly famous rabbit and hunter, be assured that he wasn't putting on a comedic act. His carefulness stemmed from necessity, a matter of life and death. He stared at the lunchbox in front of him, hands that were steady in the face of the world's most dangerous fighters now trembling.

There was a strong possibility that Akane had prepared their lunch that morning.

_Okay now, Saotome, slowly… slowly…_ He reached out with one shaking hand to lift the lid. Akane was sitting by his side, smiling expectantly. That definitely meant that she had prepared what could be called "lunch", by theory. _Here's hoping that it's something only mildly toxic… _Ranma thought, gulping. So far, he had known only Ryouga to stomach Akane's "cooking" (again, by theory) and it was well known that that guy had the endurance of Mt. Everest. Which basically meant he was a tasteless thickheaded love-blinded ox.

He was saved from a potential reason to spend a month in the hospital by an excited Hiroshi and Daisuke bounding toward their table. "Hey, Ranma! Did you hear about the big duel that's happening behind the school?"

A duel? Without his involvement in some or the other way? Well, _that_ was certainly new. "No," Ranma said, pushing away the box with barely-concealed relief. "Who's fighting who?"

"I'm not sure," Hiroshi said, stroking his chin contemplatively. "But I _do_ know that Ryouga, Shampoo and Mousse are involved, along with two other guys who're apparently new around these parts."

"_And_," Daisuke added, nudging Ranma with a smirk, "It seems Shampoo has a thing for one of the new guys."

"I'm not surprised," Akane said, with a snort.

"More like relieved, I'd say," a new voice intervened, which Ranma quickly found belonged to Nabiki Tendou. She had a frighteningly familiar anticipatory gleam in her eye. Ranma thought he could see yen notes glowing in her irises. "What about it guys? One can't let opportunities for some good entertainment go by wasted."

"You mean opportunities to earn some money," Akane said, rolling her eyes at her sister, but she stood up nonetheless. Ranma followed her as she strode toward the direction of the school grounds. _She's forgotten about the lunch… there really **is** a God up there!_

"Oh, and Ranma? You can bring the lunch – we'll have it while watching the fight."

Yes, there was a God up there, and that God really, _really _hated Ranma Saotome.

With the air of someone proceeding to his death at the guillotine, Ranma grabbed the dreaded box and followed the others toward the woods at the back of the school. The sight that met him there quickly pushed all thoughts of deadly lunches from his mind, replacing them with interest and not a small amount of amusement.

Ryouga and Mousse stood at one end of the clearing in combat stances. Ryouga's face was etched with pure rage, while Mousse's expression was a little harder to fathom – it was what seemed to be a mixture of betrayal, anger, sadness and longing. It was a remarkable expression, really.

On the other end of the clearing stood Shampoo, clinging almost protectively to the long red robes of a remarkable-looking man Ranma had never seen before. Once couldn't blame him, though. It isn't often that you meet a man sporting long white hair, fangs, claws sharp enough to tear the toughest of hide into shreds, and a sword that defied all sword-making logic with its gargantuan size, even in Nerima. Next to the longhaired man stood the monk Ranma had seen earlier that morning, golden staff held before him in a defensive stance.

Nothing moved for a brief moment, in which Ranma could already hear Nabiki collecting bets on the fight, and other students starting to mill around.

Then the white-haired man snarled, revealing a set of fangs big enough to rival Ryouga's.

"This is your last chance. Give me my shards and get this annoying woman off my back. _Now_."

Ryouga sneered. "Never."

Ranma wondered what in hell was going on (_Shards? Ryouga?_), before something seemed to snap within the combatants.

All hell broke loose.

* * *

Ryouga and Inu Yasha were the first to charge, umbrella and Tetsusaiga held aloft as their battle yells resounded within the clearing. The two weapons met with a crash that had half the students covering their ears. Refusing to be suckered into another deadlock, Ryouga slid the umbrella down and lunged at Inu Yasha's midsection. Inu Yasha dodged the blow by a hairbreadth, while sending the Tetsusaiga in a sweeping arc toward Ryouga's head.

Meanwhile, Mousse sent a barrage fire-tipped spears (how he did that is anybody's guess) flying toward Miroku, while shouting melodramatic phrases of betrayal and holy men teaming up with the devil. Miroku wisely kept his mouth shut and dodged the fiery projectiles, while an angry Shampoo sent one of her bonbori flying toward Mousse's head. "Stupid Mousse! You no interfere in my love!"

"FIST OF THE WHITE SWAN!"

The swan shaped potty – _What **is** that thing?_ wondered Miroku – that emerged out of Mousse's robes easily intercepted the bonbori and went on to land a decisive blow on a confused Miroku's mid-section. The monk was sent flying to meet a tree in a decidedly painful manner. Mousse moved in, two long blades emerging from his sleeves, to deliver the final blow to the still-dazed monk. Miroku was saved, however, by Shampoo intervening with a lunging kick that pushed Mousse away, but, unfortunately, got her in the way of the blunt edge of the swinging Tetsusaiga.

Her head impacted against the blade, and she crumpled to the ground, only one thought lingering in her mind before she lost consciousness: _He defeat me, too! This man most certainly husband!_

Mousse seemed to have realised that as well, for the howl that ripped from his throat was not only one of concern, but also despair. He ought to have dealt with the rebel and Ryouga first. Now that the rebel had knocked out Shampoo in the middle of a fight – even if inadvertently – by Amazon law, they most certainly would be married. Life was being just too cruel.

Miroku advanced on a distracted Mousse, realising that there would be no better chance to get the Hidden Weaponry Master. Quite frankly, he had not expected the young Amazon to team up with Hibiki, but he must have realised earlier that there were to be no certain loyalties in such a crazy world. Swinging his staff, he landed a decisive blow on the Amazon's head, adding a bit of spiritual power to the hit, just to be safe. Mousse crumpled to the ground, out for the count. Heaving a sigh of relief (and trying to ignore the applause of the large number of students gathered there) Miroku turned to see how Inu Yasha was faring.

Apparently, his end of the fight was not going so well.

Lunge, parry, swing. Insult, grunt, kick, swerve. Ryouga went through the motions of the fight as if they were second nature to him – which they were, considering the fact that he'd been doing nothing but travelling and fighting for the past year or so – distantly marvelling at the fact that this kid, whom the other called 'Inu Yasha' was actually not half-bad. Despite the fact that the man lacked strategy or finesse, his sheer power more than made up for it. Which, Ryouga realised almost grudgingly, was pretty much the way Ryouga himself fought.

They were quite evenly matched.

Time to pull out some tricks from under the sleeve.

Ryouga abruptly flipped himself out of the thick of the duel, and crouched under the cover of a nearby tree, slowly spinning his umbrella in one hand. Inu Yasha looked annoyed. "Are you running away from me, now, Hibiki? Come on out and fight, or I'll not hesitate in killing you!"

Ryouga only smirked.

"Déjà vu," Daisuke muttered. "It's like witnessing a Ranma and Ryouga duel, only that now Ryouga's behaving like Ranma and that other guy like Ryouga."

Ranma laughed. "Hey, even a guy like _Ryouga_ can be made to look intelligent when he's pitted against a denser opponent. It's all a matter of comparison, y'know."

"Oh, is that so?" Akane's eyebrows went up. "So you're implying that you're intelligent?"

"Glad you caught on finally," Ranma said airily before a mallet made heavy contact with his head.

"Pay attention to the fight, guys," Hiroshi said, his eyes gleaming. "I think Ryouga's going to try something." His lips pursed. "He'd better – I got a lot of money riding on him."

Ryouga charged forward once again, his umbrella now spinning at an insane speed. Ranma recognised it as being his (in)famous 'buzz-saw trick' and realised that this white-haired guy was really causing Ryouga some trouble – the Lost Boy used the buzz-saw trick only while facing tough opponents; sometimes not at all. The spinning umbrella flew toward Inu Yasha, who was rather slow to react. The spinning edges of the super-heavy umbrella grazed his arm, making pieces of blood-stained red cloth fly. Slowed down and veered off course, the umbrella flew on above Inu Yasha, and beyond.

Ryouga stopped for a couple of seconds, breathing heavily, assuming that Inu Yasha would take at least a minute to recover from _that_.

One can't blame him for not knowing that Inu Yasha was a half-demon, with healing powers that rivalled Ranma's and his own.

Inu Yasha grinned and ran forward. The students gasped. Nabiki smiled. Ranma tilted his head in interest.

Ryouga never saw it coming.

The sword swiped at him, its blunt edge making hard contact with his cranium (somehow Inu Yasha had had the feeling that killing was not as acceptable in this era as it was in his). Ryouga flew backward, smashed through two or three trees before finally coming to a painful stop at a particularly thick one. He slid down the bark, leaving a thin trail of blood behind him.

"Ryouga!" Akane cried, slapping a hand over her mouth in shocked concern.

"Don't worry 'bout him," Ranma assured her. "As much as I hate to admit it, he's got more endurance than all of us put together. Something like that shouldn't get him."

"Maybe you're right," Akane conceded. Ryouga _had_ survived the rigorous – not to mention mortally painful – Bakusai Tenketsu training before, and had come out of it unfazed. This should be nothing at all for him.

But somehow, Akane couldn't prevent some trepidation from climbing up her spine…

Ryouga opened his eyes with some effort, the warm trickle of blood from his head tainting his vision red. Inu Yasha stood in front of him, visibly gloating. With some more effort, Ryouga got on to his feet, and looked a little beyond Inu Yasha.

Inexplicably, he smiled.

Slightly unnerved that his opponent was still standing – _and smiling!_ – Inu Yasha grunted, "Now – what about my shards?"

Ryouga wiped the blood away and took down a dozen bandannas from his head (which led Miroku to wonder just _how_ many Hibiki had tied around his head). "Shards?" The bandannas stiffened miraculously in Ryouga's hand, acquiring razor-sharp edges. "What shards?" He flung the bandannas at Inu Yasha, who had enough sense to leap out of their way as they thudded into the ground he had been standing on just seconds before.

Unfortunately, he had been forced to leap to the _left_, which wasn't good at all, as he recognised the humming sound of a projectile rushing through air toward him.

Inu Yasha turned to see the black and red shape of the umbrella rushing toward him, the tip growing big enough to cover his vision within an instant. Before the hanyou had time to say "_Shit_", much less leap out of the way, the tip made explosive contact with Inu Yasha's head, making him crash to the ground, causing a small crater and a dust cloud.

Miroku slapped his forehead in disgust. _Why couldn't Inu Yasha anticipate that? _So much for a person who travelled with – and fought – a fighter who used _boomerangs_ as a weapon. Kagome was right – the stupid hanyou never _learned_.

Ranma was very impressed. Ryouga really _was_ learning – maybe he wasn't such a hopeless case, after all. The fanged martial artist had actually thought out and set an effective trap – using his buzz-saw trick to achieve a boomerang-esque effect, taking a few blows to fool the opponent, then getting the enemy into the right position for the returning umbrella by using the ki-sharpened bandannas.

Hm. Not bad at all.

Ryouga stood over the small crater Inu Yasha had created, a smug smile on his face. He caught the umbrella neatly and twirled it almost lazily in his hand. "I hope that's taught you – and your friend – a lesson." He patted his pocket. "These shards were bestowed upon me, and I intend to keep them." With that, he proceeded to pick up his backpack and leave.

Miroku started forward to intercept him, before a muffled, but angry voice stopped both of them in their tracks. "We'll… see about that."

To Ryouga's – and the entire student population of Furinkan High – surprise, Inu Yasha stood up and bounded out of the crater, shaking off dust and rubble. There was a small trickle of blood running down the side of his face, but he otherwise looked completely unharmed. Ryouga was alarmed. _Did the guy undergo surgery and get titanium plates installed beneath his skin or something?_ Panic and surprise fuel the imagination, it would seem.

"It'll take much more than that to get me down, _human_," Inu Yasha growled, and slashed at Ryouga before the young man had a chance to wonder at Inu Yasha's strange last word. He avoided it by a hairbreadth, and brought up his umbrella to take a swing at the hanyou. Umbrella met Tetsusaiga once again, but this time Inu Yasha was the one determined not to be fooled. He let go off the Tetsusaiga altogether – causing it to turn into its rusty guise and drop down – and Ryouga stumbled forward with the momentum. Inu Yasha bared his claws and slashed at Ryouga's chest – more specifically, his chest pocket – causing two pink, gently glowing lights to rise into the air and drop some distance away from the combatants.

Only one thought resounded in Inu Yasha, Miroku and Ryouga's minds: _The shards!_

Inu Yasha and Miroku gave cries of triumph as one, before sprinting toward the fallen shards. Intense panic at the prospect of losing his only cure for the Jusenkyo curse propelled Ryouga into action. Flipping into the air and stepping on a distracted Inu Yasha's head, he managed to land before them, fangs bared. "You want the shards? You'll have to get through _me_, first."

"With pleasure," Miroku replied calmly, raising his staff, while Inu Yasha responded by hefting the Tetsusaiga.

Ryouga lifted a finger, and stabbed it into the ground.

"BAKUSAI TENKETSU!"

The ground exploded beneath their feet, and stone and rubble flew everywhere, at dangerous speeds. Many of the students ran for cover, while Ranma blocked the stones from hitting Akane and the others with his superior speed. _What are you… oh shit._ Overcome by a sense of concern for his sometime-comrade, Ranma cried out, "Ryouga, look out!"

His cause for concern was exactly this: Ryouga's Breaking Point move had just penetrated an underground water pipe, and now the water was gushing out in an uncontrollable fountain, which Ryouga couldn't avoid.

And he didn't have his shards with him.

_Bloody… why does this always happen to me?_ Ryouga thought miserably, as he felt himself transforming under the Jusenkyo curse. His clothes pooled around him, while Inu Yasha and Miroku looked around, bewildered. Both were battered and bruised – slightly bloodied in the case of Miroku – but they were on their feet. And the shards were but metres away. Once the dust cloud cleared, the shards would be in plain view – and for their taking. There _had _to be some way to avoid that…

Ranma, if possible, was nearly as desperate as Ryouga. Despite the fact that he thought that Ryouga was a thick-skinned, hot-headed pig, and the fact that Ryouga was often out to 'kill' him, the fanged martial artist was one of the few real friends that he had. Besides, he had made a promise to Ryouga, and as a martial artist who reveres honour, he wanted to keep that promise.

Which basically meant this: he'd better keep Akane from discovering Ryouga's cursed form, otherwise his conscience was going to give him a lot of shit.

"What's happening? Where's Ryouga?" Akane stood on her toes trying to look over the just-dispersing dust cloud. Ranma's mind was agonisingly blank – he just _couldn't_ think of any excuses. _Well then,_ he thought determinedly. _Desperate times call for desperate measures._ "Akane," he said, in as soft a voice as he could manage, "Let's go back inside and have our lunch. We can't possibly eat in this mess."

Akane's eyes looked as if they would jump out of their sockets. _Ranma actually, **voluntarily** wants to eat my lunch? This is something new. _"O-okay then," she said, wishing she could prevent that blush from creeping across her nose, "I guess we could…"

"Holy _cow_! What _is_ that… that _thing_?"

Daisuke's stunned voice echoed even in the noisy clearing. Curious, Ranma turned… and gasped. _Bloody hell… Ryouga!_

Just as Ranma had realised what desperate times called for, Ryouga had had his thoughts moving along the same lines. There was not much he could do to protect the shards in the unenviable body of a piglet. Just as he had almost thought about scampering away in despair, he had realised that there _was_ one thing he could do. It was probably the most desperate thing he'd ever had to do in his entire troubled life, but hey. The future was worth it – so why not?

With that placating thought in mind, Ryouga Hibiki, as the adorable piglet P-Chan, swallowed the shards.

The dust-cloud cleared.

Daisuke yelled.

The students panicked.

Inu Yasha let out a string of _very_ censorable curses.

For, in the middle of the clearing stood the most hideous thing the seasoned students of Furinkan High had ever seen. This… this creature… _defined_ huge. It was gargantuan. Its snout was the colour of dried blood, and two huge, dangerous-looking fangs protruded from its mouth. Two long ears twitched restlessly on its head, while its eyes – huge, red and crazed – swivelled from side to side. Its hooves created tiny canyons as they scratched at the ground. Its gigantic black body seemed big enough to house all of the students of Furinkan High comfortably within its belly. _What happened?_ Akane thought, her eyes wide in fright._ How did this… **thing** come here?_

Only Ranma recognised the creature for what it really was.

Ryouga Hibiki had just become a monster.

* * *


	5. Part V

**_A/N:_** Thanks for all the reviews. This fic was a total blast to write, and I'm almost sorry to see it end.

And, oh, a little warning here: the parts toward the end of the chapter can get a little… _gory _(for lack of a better word), so if you're of a sensitive disposition, who can get queasy very easily, you might not want to read it. It's nothing really graphic or "M", however. Really.

_**Five**_

Shampoo was sure that she was caught in a hellish nightmare.

Disjointed images floated in her head, knocking into each other, resolving into visions from the depths of certain hell.

Swallowing the love pills –

Falling head-over-heels in love with someone who was not Ranma Saotome –

Getting defeated by that very person –

Silvery white hair fluttering in the wind, and the clash of steel against bamboo –

Shampoo moaned, wishing for the nightmare to end soon.

"Shampoo? Shampoo darling, are you okay?"

She opened her eyes with some effort – her vision was still blurred, but there was somebody standing over her, calling out her name in concern. Warm hands wrapped themselves around her still form, and lifted her into the air. The rush of wind immediately afterward informed her that she was being carried away… the person holding her was running… _running_…

She opened her eyes once again, and caught a sight of long black hair.

"R-Ranma? Airen?"

"Shampoo." A pair of beautiful green eyes met hers, and her breath was stolen away. She was sure this was Ranma. He had finally realised the long-festering love he'd had for her. The green depths she was gazing into was filled with affection of the like she had never seen before, and…

Wait.

_Green_ eyes?

"Shampoo," he said again, his voice now high-pitched with excitement – or maybe it was relief.

Shampoo's vision cleared.

"STUPID DUCK-BOY!"

Many years later, people would still talk excitedly about the white projectile they had seen that day, moving with super-sonic speed into the stratosphere.

---------------------

Ranma watched with an almost inane fascination as the pig-turned-monster reared back its head and emitted a roar that had most of the students cringing and covering their ears with their hands. Akane had a shocked hand clamped over her open mouth, and Hiroshi and Daisuke were clutching at each other, trembling with fear.

_Aw man, Ryouga_, Ranma thought, shaking his head in sympathy for his fellow martial artist. _This shouldn't have happened to you._

"Inu Yasha," the monk said authoritatively, "You know what this means, yes?"

"'Course I do – the bugger swallowed the shards," the white-haired man replied, scowling.

'Inu Yasha' hefted his gargantuan sword. "There's only one way to get back the shards now." With that chilling statement, he charged toward the transformed P-Chan.

With surprising agility, Ryouga avoided the initial charge, and while Inu Yasha stumbled forward with the momentum he had generated, head-butted the half-demon. Inu Yasha was sent flying, to land heavily against a nearby tree. Ranma winced, but the monk seemed to be unconcerned about his friend. A couple of seconds later, Ranma could see why: Inu Yasha got up and prepared for another charge, as if nothing had happened at all.

Hm. Very interesting, indeed.

This time it was Ryouga who took the initiative, running toward Inu Yasha, as the ground pulsed beneath his enormous hooves, as if wave after seismic wave was pulverising it. Inu Yasha blocked the charge by putting up the Tetsusaiga, and it was a battle between hanyou and beast as Ryouga tried to push beyond the unrelenting blade of the sword.

Inu Yasha was the one who finally won the battle, pushing Ryouga's gigantic form off his sword in an awesome display of strength. The students scampered for cover as P-Chan flew in their direction, finally landing with a ground-shaking and crater-causing _thud_.

Ryouga recovered quickly, however, and the battle recommenced once again in earnest. Ranma's concern for his friend swelled to unrecognisable levels. He noted the sheer power that went behind each stroke from that 'Inu Yasha' guy, and if this kept up – even while considering Ryouga's new body – the fanged martial artist was certainly going to face a painful death. Ranma didn't want _that_.

He didn't want to lose his only even remotely challenging sparring partner, dammit!

And so Ranma decided to think of a way to save Ryouga.

Obviously experience was lacking on both the 'thinking', and 'saving Ryouga' matters, but Ranma figured that there was a first time for everything. Who knew, Ryouga might give up his grudge in gratitude!

Now, _that_ was an encouraging thought.

Didn't mean it was plausible, though – considering that it was _Ryouga_ he was thinking about here. Ranma conveniently ignored that thought, and tried to get down to figuring out the situation at hand.

Obviously, the main object of contention here was the little pink glass pieces that had fallen from Ryouga's pocket. They didn't look very out of the ordinary – but there had to be something special about them, considering the almost maniacal fervour with which Ryouga and the two strangers fought to possess the shards.

"_The bugger swallowed the shards_."

Of course, it _could_ be the fact that the shards had the ability to transform people into monsters…

He neatly sidestepped as Inu Yasha came to a crashing halt mere inches from where Ranma had been standing a couple of seconds ago. Unfazed as usual, the half-demon picked himself up again. However, Ranma noted, there was now real anger burning in Inu Yasha's amber eyes, and the pig-tailed martial artist got the sickening feeling that Inu Yasha had actually been restraining himself all this while.

What kind of guy _was_ this Inu Yasha? … A guy who considered fighting monsters like the one Ryouga had turned into a small matter, a guy who pranced around with a sword that was more than half his size, a guy who wore dog-ears on his head…

Dog ears?

How appropriate, considering this was Nerima.

If swallowing the shards was the reason Ryouga had transformed into that monstrosity, the obvious solution would be to get the shards out of his body. The only way Ranma could think of to do that was to cut open Ryouga, and he most certainly didn't want _that_.

Then how…?

"Ranma?" Akane's voice startled him out of his thoughts. "How do you think that monster came here?"

Ranma shrugged. "If I knew that, the monster wouldn't even _be_ here now."

Akane scowled slightly. "More importantly, do you think that guy is strong enough to… _kill_ it?"

Ranma gave a short laugh. "Geez, Akane, why are _you_ so concerned? Think you can handle that monster?" He smirked at her scowling form. "Maybe that's not such an impossible idea. I mean, all you have to do would be to…" He trailed off, and his eyes widened. "Bloody hell." His jaw dropped. "Bloody _hell_," he repeated.

Akane's anger morphed into concern. "Er… Ranma? What's wrong?"

"_How_ could I have not seen it before?" Ranma said, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's the _perfect_ solution."

Akane was starting to get exasperated. She raised her mallet threateningly. "Ranmaaa…"

In an unprecedented reaction, he turned to her, his blue eyes intense. The mallet disappeared from her hands, and she took an uncertain step back. What was the jerk _up_ to?

"Akane," he said slowly. "May I have your lunch?"

Lunch? She looked down at the lunch box she held her hands, which she had taken from Ranma at some point during Ryouga and Inu Yasha's duel. "S-Sure." She handed it to him. "But you're not going to tease me, are you?"

"That depends," he said vaguely, carefully opening the box, wondering distantly just how _anybody_ could make something as simple as chicken curry look like pieces of dead rat that had rotted in a lab sewer. Trying not to breathe through his flaring nostrils, Ranma turned to face the battle once again. This time, it was Inu Yasha who had Ryouga at a disadvantage, anticipating his movements and matching knowledge with powerful sword strokes as if he had been fighting monsters for years. Ranma noted that Mousse had carried away Shampoo sometime during the scuffle, and was thankful. He most certainly didn't want any interference in the execution of _this_ plan.

He took a deep breath.

"Hey, ham-face!"

Inu Yasha and Ryouga froze mid-fight. Miroku stared at Ranma with an almost humorous intensity, while a wave of excited chattering rose among the gathered students.

"Yeah, I'm talking to _you_, pork-butt!"

Ryouga-turned-monster's enormous snout flared, and within its bloodshot eyes blazed the fires that promised sure death. The great, lumbering monster turned toward Ranma.

Ranma took a step forward. "Come and fight me if you can, you great piece of wrapped fat!"

He realised that he had finally reached through to the real Ryouga hidden within the crevices of the monster's mind – not to mention the seething anger that usually came whenever Ryouga set eyes on his sometime-comrade. The monster opened its mouth and let out a long, drawn-out roar of utmost rage, almost as if it were shouting, "Ranma, Prepare to die!"

Ranma's muscles tensed as he lifted the lunch box. It was now or never. He drew the box back, aiming.

"Oooooh! So many pretty ladiiieeeeaAAA!"

Ranma released the box.

A maroon, speeding blur tumbled from the trees.

Both projectiles found their way into the monster's open mouth. The jaws closed with a snap.

The monster blinked.

The crowd waited with bated breaths.

The enormous black face of the monster then started changing colour, from pitch-black to an ash-grey with ugly spots of splattered green. The grey slowly deepened into a vivid purple, whose edges were already reddening. The snouts and the depressed, barely-visible lips trembled. Ranma saw what was coming.

"All students of Furinkan High! Run, run for your bloody lives! NOW!"

The silence shattered like somebody had broken a glass, and students began to run from the clearing in a great flood, some thanking the Lord – and others bemoaning the loss of extra entertainment – that Kunou had chosen that day to catch the flu, and was not there to hold them up.

Then a horrible, horrible sound rented the air, like the cry of an enormous sick animal. Which, incidentally, was not too far from the truth.

Then _it_ came.

The monster took in one last shuddering breath, staggered backwards a bit, then opened its mouth and let out the biggest projectile of yellow-coloured vomit that Ranma ever cared to see in his entire life. Miroku and Inu Yasha ducked and rolled out of its path, while Ranma and Akane, the only students left in the clearing, jumped onto the tallest tree they could find. "This is _disgusting_," Akane said, crinkling her nose with a cuteness that Ranma had never, inexplicably, noticed before.

The second outlet was even bigger than the first, and more strained – for Happosai came with this one. Ranma thanked the Gods for the unexpected foolproof seal that they had given his plan. If swallowing Akane's cooking didn't make one sick, then swallowing Happosai along with it ought to definitely do the trick. The old man, covered with vomit, blood and gore, rolled to one side, unconscious, but miraculously alive.

Ranma almost cried tears of relief that he hadn't been the unfortunate one to eat that lunch.

Finally, with one last mighty heave, the monster let out what seemed to be the last outlet of the afternoon. Two tiny pink sparks gleamed in the sunlight in that shower, and Inu Yasha and Miroku's eyes seemed to gleam along with them. They leapt to their feet as Ranma watched the monster starting to shrink. Soon, from beneath the vomit and the gore, tiny P-Chan peeked his adorable head out.

Ranma eyed Akane with some apprehension from the corner of his eye, and saw her gasping. "P-Chan was that terrible monster?"

She leapt from the tree, Ranma close at her heels, ignoring the stench of the vomit as she wrapped a discarded scarf around her hands and picked up P-Chan. Gently, she wiped his body clean, even using water from her own water bottle in the process. As she did so, she said quietly, "It was those little pink things, wasn't it?"

Ranma just nodded numbly.

Meanwhile, Inu Yasha, who seemed more accustomed to dealing with wading around in foot-deep gore than his friend, had finally found the little pink shards, and was holding them aloft with one clawed, stinking hand, shouting in triumph, as if it were a great trophy. Ranma admired that Miroku was able to show some relief even through the crinkled, disgusted mask his facial expression was currently set in.

The monk looked toward them. "Thank you for your help, and other…" His eyes flicked over the unconscious Happosai, "… _services_. You will have our eternal gratitude."

"Was nothin'," Ranma replied flippantly, as an impatient Inu Yasha grabbed Miroku's hand and dragged him toward the banyan tree beyond the copse of trees surrounding the clearing, and across the road. Ranma, Akane and P-Chan watched with fascination as Inu Yasha raised one clawed hand, stroking his palm against the rough surface of the tree. The bark rippled gently, and let Inu Yasha's hand right through, as if it were nothing more than the reflection of a tree on a gently rippling stream. Soon, Inu Yasha let his whole body in, and disappeared. Miroku gave a small, choked sound of joy, which sounded suspiciously like "Back to her posterior's delights."

The monk clutched the one Jewel shard Inu Yasha had given him in his hand, and turned to smile at them one last time, before he plunged his body into the bark as well. A bright flash, and the two of them had disappeared completely.

The only sound that broke the silence was Nabiki's loud efforts to close the betting of the increasingly restless students.

Finally, Ranma sighed and turned to face the school, hands in pockets. "Well, I guess we oughta go back."

Akane nodded, but made no effort to follow him. Concerned, Ranma looked back to see her still wiping and petting a whimpering P-Chan. "Aren't you comin'?"

Akane gave another vague nod, but her expression remained distantly thoughtful. "You know, Ranma, I've been thinking," she started. "I mean, this fight started off with Ryouga fighting Inu Yasha, right? But it was P-Chan who swallowed the shards, right after that water-pipe burst." Ranma felt his heart racing fast enough to beat a racecar as she looked at him with wide eyes. "Maybe Ryouga's been cursed in Jusenkyo to turn into P-Chan. _That_ would explain a lot of things, you know?"

Sweat beaded down Ranma's forehead as he stared at her, too astonished to think of a response. After all these weeks, had she finally figured it out? He could see Ryouga enter into minor convulsions in Akane's arms.

Finally, Akane laughed.

It was loud, full-throated, hearty laughter, and it unnerved Ranma even more. What was she doing now? Was she not going to kill them both?

Akane caught her breath. "I was just _joking_, Ranma. Of course Ryouga's not P-Chan! I'm sure the poor dear got lost and poor little P-Chan happened to be in the wrong place in the wrong time." She smirked at her fiancé. "Geez, Ranma, you really need to lighten up sometimes."

Ryouga fainted in Akane's arms.

Ranma facefaulted.

---------------------------------------

It was all over in what seemed to be less than an instant. Miroku had a fleeting glimpse of swirling darkness, limned by power the magnitude of which he could only predict in his most delirious dreams, before, with a loud popping sound, the both of them were sent tumbling on to the soft forest floor.

Inu Yasha flipped himself onto his feet at once, grinning despite the stench that rose off his form. "I showed those arrogant idiots from the future, didn't I?"

Miroku rose gingerly. "If you say so." He looked cautiously around them, and was relieved to note that they were indeed back to their own time. "Though I find it rather ironic that it was one of those 'arrogant idiots' who finally managed to retrieve the shards."

Inu Yasha scowled, and chose not to reply. Instead, he raised his head and sniffed at the air. "The girls are coming," he said shortly.

Soon enough, the foliage parted, and Sango and Kagome made their appearances. Immediately their faces froze into masks of utmost disgust. "What have you two been _doing_?" Kagome cried, her voice coming out muffled and nasal as she pinched her nose. "Been rolling around in demon puke?"

Miroku gave out a long and world-weary sigh. "Actually, that's not too far from the truth."

"What?"

"It's a long story," Inu Yasha said, rolling his eyes. "We'll tell it to you later." He paused to reconsider his words. "I mean, _Miroku_ will tell you everything."

_Traitor_, Miroku thought darkly, as he bent down to retrieve his staff. "We have the Jewel Shards. All three of them, like you said, Kagome." He waved his staff in the general – and _very _welcome – direction of Kaede's village. "I think the most prudent course of action right now would be to get back home, and, er, _clean up_."

Kagome nodded. "Though I don't suspect it'll be very easy to get that stench off your robes."

Miroku opened his mouth, but Kagome interrupted him. "Yeah – _even_ with the detergents that I brought from home."

Miroku sighed again. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to try." With that, he began to walk back toward the village. Watching his retreating back, Kagome gasped. "_No way_!"

"What is it, Kagome?" Sango asked, concerned, one hand already on the edge of her Hiraikotsu.

"You see that thing on Miroku's head?" Sango nodded. "It's a piece of underwear. From my time."

Kagome looked at her significantly. "_Women's_ underwear."

Sango's eyes widened, and she raced to catch up with Miroku. Inu Yasha and Kagome winced as the sound of hand hitting cheek resounded within the forest soon after.

"Oops." Kagome smiled uneasily. "I think Sango kinda overreacted." She started to run toward Miroku and Sango's direction. "I suppose I'd better go and fix things between them."

Inu Yasha watched her leave, shaking his head and snorting at the same time, all in all producing quite a creditable imitation of a horse with acute gastric distress. He finished it off with a regally derisive "_Women_", adding "Especially _human_ women" for good effect. He started to walk back toward the village as well.

A ripple of powerful energy that exploded in the vicinity in the following moment stopped Inu Yasha in his tracks. Slowly, almost fearfully, he turned around to face the banyan tree, which was now shimmering iridescently. The outlines of the strong and grand bark were fast starting to fade, and the very earth beneath his feet began to rumble. Inu Yasha was suddenly, inexplicably, possessed of a desire to get the hell away from that clearing, that _tree_.

Just before he leaped out the clearing, Inu Yasha could've sworn hearing the hysterical laughter of a teenaged girl resounding from within the depths of the tree as it disappeared in a flash of light.

_**Finis**_


End file.
